


Control

by SolarRetribution



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Language, F/M, Hate Sex, Rough Sex, Roughness, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 07:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30068859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarRetribution/pseuds/SolarRetribution
Summary: The Drifter has taken one step too many over Devorah's patience limit. Meddled in her business one too many times. Now he's made her look like a fool in front of their subordinates on their co-commanded mission to train new lights and she's going to give her a piece of her mind... or a fist to his face.
Relationships: The Drifter/Female Guardian (Destiny), The Drifter/Guardian (Destiny)
Kudos: 8





	Control

Metal boots met the metal grating of the good for nothing Derelict ship's floor with about the same peaceful tune as a dying canary. New lightbearers communing in the hall were right to make way to the young wolf's fury blasting down the corridor like the unrelenting waves of the sun itself. 

Devorah's nostrils flared in rage as she thought over how that rat of a man had been calling all the shots over THEIR crew. This was a mission they were both leading and he had pulled every trick under the sun to be the one calling the shots training the young guardians under his decrepit methods. The final straw was his nasty scheme to mislead her on the time of the latest gathering to discuss tomorrow's mission on the ground. She huffed, anxiety pouring over her as she thought about what a fool she must've looked like. It was her own damn fault she trusted her information from that petty excuse for a man.

She didn't even want to be here, her trust in the Drifter barely even formed before she started learning more and more about his backwards ways, but Zavala has been too trusting, wanting the Drifter to have a more permanent place in the tower and wanting to expose the new guardians to knowledge of the darkness to get the upper hand on our enemies. He bestowed upon Devorah the duty of shared command on this training mission, of course she reluctantly accepted.

\---------

The Drifter sat at a table in his "command center", if you could call the tin box of a room as such, tinkering on some gambit equipment, always trying to make improvements to the game. His ears twitched at the sound of clanging metal echoing down the halls, getting louder and louder. He always knew to be prepared for his impending murder; knowing himself, it could be anyone coming down the hall, but he knew who it was this time. The confident stride of a hunter who takes down gods for breakfast. He shivered and immediately started thinking of ways to talk himself out of this predicament before it even began. 

Devorah marched into the dusty room and right up to the leather adorned scoundrel. He didn't bother looking up from his work, trying to hold the upper hand and keep the attention she wanted away. "Nice evening isn't it-" She cut him off, hiking a leg onto the table, pushing his work away from him a few inches and slamming the barrel of her Witherhoard to the bench seat next to where he sat. 

"Woah now, sister, I don't need a demonstration of Blight 101. I'm familiar." 

Drifter placed his tools down and finally looked up at the wall of a woman towering over him. Her snow white hair was straight, perfectly cut at just below chin length, some pieces fell in front of her eyes as she glowered down at him.  
The presence before him was mighty impressive to behold; not tall, but not short either, well built from her years in combat, adorned in pristine white armor with gold accents. Fitting for the confident and powerful demeanor of the solar hunter.  
Devorah lit up any room like a tri-star solar system and garnered just as much adoration from the newbies. It was hard to admit, but he pondered that he might be... jealous. They were complete opposites after all. He was a dusty shadow on a wall cast by her light. 

"Careful, might get your pretty duds all dirty running around with the likes of me." He teased bitterly. 

He felt waves of heat hit his face like a bag of bricks, her rage radiating against the coldness of the steel around them. Her eyes bore holes into his head, it made him grateful she didn't have any of those old timey superhero eye lazer powers he found on some vintage films down on Earth. 

Devorah's face twisted in visible anger, the light under her skin illuminating her expression clearly in the dimly lit room. 

"You gonna say anything or-"

Her finger twitched on the trigger of the portable blight mashiah sheker. 

"Woah now, hot shot, let's not get trigger happy, I got business happening here," The Drifter laughed nervously and showed her his palms in feigned surrender.

The awoken hunter's left fist shook as she strained to not lay him out right here with a nice crisp jaw breaker. 

After all this time the Drifter still hadn't come up with an out. Her silence was deafening and terrifying. At least if she started yelling at him, he could come up with something witty to quip back with. He was good on his toes, not the planning type. 

Her bright blue eyes squinted down at him. He disguised his squirming by adjusting his duster. He felt his heart pounding at his ribs like it was trying to escape its confines. 

It was hard to lie to himself here, the suspense was a little exciting. 

He figured the silent glare meant she was waiting for an explanation... but that meant admitting he did something. That just couldn't slide. 

"C'mon now lil mama, I think we should both just..." he cautiously raised his hand to rest on hers atop her gun as if trying to befriend a starving lion. "Relax..." He breathed out.  
He felt her finger squeeze the trigger ever so slightly and he flinched. Cursing in his mind, he prayed she didn't notice. 

He attempted to caress her gloved hand as soothingly as possible with his worn fingers. 

"What is it that ol' Drifter possibly could have done to stir up such a fuss in the Young Wolf, huh?" His teeth shone in a playful smirk up at her, meeting her eyes for longer than he was able to up until this point. 

"You know damn well," Devorah snarled down at him, slamming her left hand on her knee that was propped up on the table, caging him in along with Witherhoard menacingly threatening him on the bench. She leaned closer as her words shot thorns at him. The heat eminating from her only encapsulated him more. 

The break in her silence eased him a little. maybe today wasn't his last. 

His fingers guided her index away from the trigger. He was surprised she let him get this far without a knife to his throat. Made him wonder where all she was hiding one besides her tactical belt. The thrill of the unknown enticed him to keep going. 

Drifter slid his hand up to her wrist, smoothing over the inside of her thumb. Her arm tensed hard and he thanked the Nine that he maneuvered her finger from the trigger before making it this far. His eyes darted to do a roll call of all of her digits just to make sure. 

He turned on the bench sideways to face her and crossed a leg underneath himself to get a bit more of a height boost against her dominion over him. His right hand joined it's brother in the pursuit of easing the sun's wrath by resting it upon the top of her thigh. 

Her body recoiled and she looked down at him in disgust. Drifter had felt her disdain the whole time they had been traveling the star system on their training mission... maybe since before that even. He seldom wondered why, it wasn't hard to assume with all the distateful acts he had committed, she would've caught wind of one. 

He ever so slowly and carefully pushed his hand up to her hip. He wondered if she'd snap in two if she tensed up any more, though he was shocked to realize she wasn't slaughtering him this very moment. 

The leather clad man met her eyes once more after analyzing where his hands rested in amazement. His heart was hammering so hard he was a little fearful that cardiac arrest might meet him before her light did. 

\------------  
A fresh lightbearer; a warlock in training, glided down the halls of the Derelict on light toes on her way to request some information from her mentors, the Young Wolf and the Drifter. Oh how she admired them so, such powerful displays they both showed at the latest game of Gambit. They played on opposing teams, each teaching their own fire teams for the day. The young warlock reminisced watching Devorah's display of blades wiping out entire armies of taken. She wondered if the Traveller bestowed the light from our very sun itself upon the elite hunter. 

She sighed as she remembered how Devorah and the Drifter clashed on the battle field in wonderful display of light and darkness. Might and Trickery. It was truly glorious and she couldn't be more honored to be training beneath them 

The warlock near rounded the corner to the command center of the Derelict but stopped dead in her tracks when she laid eyes upon her mentors, obviously intruding on something. She turned to walk the other way but paused as she took notice of the precarious placement of the Drifters palm on the hunters hip, barely visible in the low light of a single lamp and blinking LEDs. She knew she should leave, but...  
\------------

Devorah's unrelenting scowl flamed down to meet the Drifters compromising, yet slightly nervous grin. 

"No need to be so uptight. I can tell you need a load off... " His adept fingers silently working at the clasp to her left leg gaurds. "You've been working so hard, you should just... take a breather, " his words paused in the place of his concentration as he worked the clasp apart. 

A distinct 'click' echoed against the metal interior. 

Devorah inhaled sharply and her glowing blue eyes widened in shock. She hadn't felt his hand move an inch from where it rested this whole time. Her left hand clenched around his wrist and pulled it up and away from her leg. 

"You're despicable," The hunter growled at the sleazy man beneath her.

"Maybe so." Drifter shrugged and smiled innocently and pulled his hand gently from her grasp. 

His left hand slid up the arm that was gripping Witherhoard as his right guided off the leg armor from the tight clothing underneath that protected Devorah from chafing in battle. 

Devorah flinched backwards and the hand gripping her gun released and snatched his throat. She narrowed her eyes at him and grit her teeth. She did everything she could to hold her composure and not absolutely clock his shit right here, but... something about this situation bloomed a warmth inside her and she was becoming more and more unsure how to proceed. She came in here with a plan but nothing had gone her way so far. She expected him to cave...her mistake. She was stuck in her mind and couldn't do anything but pour her hatred onto him from her piercing eyes. 

"What a pretty lil' thing," He cooed at her with a sickeningly sweet smile dancing on his lips. 

She felt a heat different from rage breach her cheeks.  
Drifter took the opportunity whilst she gripped his throat, trying to will his life away, to gently place Witherhoard out of her reach on the floor next to him. 

Her left stride fell past her knee and down to her boot. Drifter licked his lips as he gazed upon the black leggings stretched over her toned thigh, the fabric glistened in the dim lighting and glowed from underneath where the light coursed through her veins.

The Dregen attempted soothing her arm that held his air ways. Her grip was almost surprisingly strong, but not much surprised him about her anymore. His fingers danced under her left thigh, gliding down to where her boot stopped his progression of undressing the Fury in front of him. He felt her shiver beneath his touch and he snickered.

"That's it, Dev..." he whispered and met her gaze again. Her eyebrows twitched in uncertainty and a purple hue adorned her cheeks. 

"Don't call me that." The awoken hunter hissed, tightening her grip. 

"My bad, sister." Drifter chuckled beneath her grasp. He wriggled his fingers beneath her palm and carefully pried her fingers from his juggular. Luckily she let him. 

She gripped his shoulder as he scooted closer to her. He was burning under her heat and he was reveling in it. His left hand met her right hip, working at the clasp of her other armored leg while simultaneously guiding her boot off of the leg on the table. He gently dropped the boot to the floor and unclasped her other stride at the same time, working cautiously as to not snap her back into her senses. He knew he was riding close to the edge and any wrong move could have him killed or at least mauled by the powerful vessel of light that was the only thing allowing him to breathe a second longer. 

Devorah's heart was racing and she tried desperately to get her brain to begin processing again, but she was stuck. Stuck standing before the man she probably hated most in this universe, not doing anything as he slithered his way past her barriers. The snake. She thought bitterly, her face curling in anger yet again. 

The Drifter noticed rage find it's place on her pale blue face yet again and he felt like a deer in headlights. He clenched his jaw and prayed for life as he etched circles against the inside of her thigh ever so gently. It was hard not to take her in for all she was worth. He couldn't recall the last time a woman made him feel this way, especially a woman of such quality as she. He wished to ease the lionesses fury like he had never wished for anything before. She was a power that he wanted to keep in his arsenal and he was praying to whatever gods would listen that he wasn't pissing it away this very moment. 

Drifter propped himself up on his knee to raise himself further, eyes meeting her collar now. He looked up at her with an almost pleading gaze and raised his hands to unclasp her gauntlets from her chestpiece. 

Devorah's eyes twitched with anger and... something else, meeting her co-commander's dark orbs. He looked a bit like a puppy this way, looking up at her with an almost innocent curiosity of a pup approaching a feral cat. She reluctantly let her gauntlets slip to the floor, the metal clashing against the cold floor. She clenched her jaw, jumping a bit at the sound, baring her teeth at him. 

This made him shiver, eyeing her mouth and sharp canines that he had admired spitting cruelties his way in the past. His hands glided down the backs of her arms, trying to sooth her tensed muscles as he made his way to the buckles holding her chest armour at her side. He worked them free and pushed his hands beneath the intricately designed protection, feeling the tight underclothes beneath that gripped her skin so beautifully. The Drifter gently placed her chestpiece on the floor next to the rest of her discarded pieces. 

He cautiously hooked his arm under the leg that was caging him to the bench, hefting it up over his shoulder. He looked up at the Young Wolf again, his eyes seemingly asking for permission, not like it's something he knows much about clearly. 

Devorah breathed out heavily, the sight before her nearly causing her whole body to quake, but she held her composure. She wouldn't let him win...even if he mostly was at the moment. She chewed the inside of her cheek, wondering how it got this way and so quickly at that. Her reason for storming in here seemed to fade away against the clouds rolling in to fog her mind. 

The Drifter sat back on his leg again so he could admire the sight before him in its entirety. It was heavenly if he'd ever know anything close. He had never seen her body in this fashion before. Even when she wore her casual wear, it was never this much. He felt truly blessed. His palms drifted over the outsides of her thick thighs and he salivated at the thought of getting further past this point. 

His fingers delicately pushed under the seams of the one piece body suit that was the only barrier between him and sliding her dastardly leggings away from his goal. His fingers teased against the crease where her thigh met her hip. A shiver coursed against his hands and he caught the very last moment that she was biting her lip. He smiled to himself at his work and moved one hand up her side and the other to the clasp of the body suit, which happened to rest in a risky location between her legs. 

The Drifter's thumb grazed atop the valley of her folds over the fabric and stopped at the two buttons holding it together. He bumped his head slightly against the inside of her leg that rested on his shoulder and he looked up to meet her eyes one more time. Her face was very apparently flushed and her eyes quickly darted away in defiance of his gaze. 

He snickered in triumph and nipped the inside of her thigh before proceeding in flicking the buttons apart with two more 'clicks' that broke the air only filled with soft panting. 

"There ya go..." The Dregen whispered, mostly as reassurance to himself that he felt he had finally wedged his way out of risk of extreme bodily harm. 

Devorah huffed softly, her mind still denying anything that was happening before her very eyes. She kept looking away as if it changed anything, finding extreme interest in anything but the man she came to maim. 

Drifter nuzzled his way down the inside of the hunters leg, her thigh scorching his cheek with relentless heat waves, but he pushed on. Waves of something else pushed through the wall of inferno, something sweet and intoxicating. He felt himself stiffen and jump beneath the confines of his pants, but he ignored it, he wasn't doing this for his own gain...well he was, just by other means. 

The Gambit handler's hands pushed up under the tight bodysuit, feeling her muscles ripple against his fingertips. A groan rumbled deep from his chest, sending shudders up Devorah's spine. He slid his fingers under the hem of the solar hunters leggings, tugging them down a bit, realizing there was nothing beneath to halt him any longer. He sucked his teeth trying to hold back the glee that was edging it's way to his features. 

Devorah's grip on his shoulder tightened but before she had a mind to object to the happenings of this room, she felt her leg lifted off of his other shoulder and gently placed to the floor. The sweet release of the stretch she had been holding this whole time relaxed her a bit and she gazed down to witness her leggings slide past her knees. A wave of panic came over her and she tensed realizing there was nothing between her lower half and the carnivorous man who was grinning up at her bordeline evilly. 

She didn't have much time to form a inkling of a thought before the Drifter slid off the bench and down to his knees, pushing her back against the guard rail of the upper part of the room. Her hands gripped the rail behind her to hold herself steady as the rouge worked her leggings the rest of the way off, leaving her half bare to him.

Devorah watched his teeth and tongue berate his lip as he dragged himself closer to her. She was gaining a mind to back out of this, knock him out and convince him this was all a dream created by his greedy thoughts. That was until he hefted both of her knees onto his shoulders and eyed her like she was a full three-course meal. 

"Beautiful..." Drifter sighed against her heat, his eyes drinking up every particle of light as if he would never see daybreak again.

Her legs clenched against his neck, her muscles pulsating in want. She let her arms down onto the rails, hooking her elbows behind her on the bars, her biceps protesting against the cold metal as they strained slightly to hold her up. She breathed sharply, anger still dressed her expression, though frustration was more accurate to her emotions. 

The rouge lightbearer cupped her bottom into his hands, playing with the soft yet toned muscle. He knew she was gifted, many a time he had stared a little too long as she stomped out of his sight, but he never imagined he would be so lucky as to get a full tour. 

Maybe the Nine were right... that he is worthy...  
For now at least. 

Devorah's skin was so soft against his rough hands, he wondered how she did it. He felt himself get lost between her pillowy thighs, leaning back and closing his eyes, relishing in the thought that they could snap his neck at any moment

The Young Wolf gazed down at the man, studying his face through lidded eyes. She squirmed slightly, a small hum escaping her throat. His breath against her was killing her. She wanted something... just anything...

As if someone answered her pleas, the rouge's hand slid between her thighs and traced two fingers from the crest of her pelvic bone, down over her lips to the entrance which he found was absolutely soaked and dripping down her skin. 

His eyes shot open with the deviousness of a fox. His dark blue orbs met her pale ones. She winced inwardly, anticipating the next snarky comment from her cohort. 

"My my..." he huffed out, his breath sending a wave of coolness over the slickness between the hunters legs. She shook slightly. "Someone's enjoying this a bit more then they let on." He gave a toothy grin before nudging his way past her pillowy thighs and pressing his nose to the the bud of her flower. 

"Ah..." She gasped, arching her back into him. His hands caressed up her back side and held her in place. Devorah unsuccessfully held back a moan when he flattened his tongue against her clit, skillfully sliding it across in one smooth, slow motion. The feeling of his beard against her smooth skin only heightened the feeling of it all. She leaned her head back and panted, her hips jumping to meet each of his movements. 

As he lapped at her, he slowly slid his thumb down between her dripping folds, dipping it into the entrance, but going no further as he worked her with his tongue. Her thighs squeezed at the Dregen gloriously and she was having a harder and harder time keeping her vocals in check. 

"Hush mama," he pulled away to breathe out, sliding his hand up between her bosom, over her vibrating vocal chords, and pushed two fingers against her tongue. She was so far gone, it didn't take but a second before she sucked and nipped at them, holding them carefully between her teeth. 

"That's it... Someone could walk in at any minute." His eyes darted to the entrance of the room where he had been well aware a figure had been spying on them. Drifters eyes met the glint of another pair in the shadows of the hallway and he smirked. They darted behind the corner. 

As her thighs tensed around him, so too did her walls against his thumb, beckoning him in further. "So eager, baby..." Drifter chuckled, giving way, sliding his thumb in and out ever so slowly...

Devorahs eyes opened to pierce daggers down at him. She dug her canines into the flesh of his digits, not enough to draw blood, but enough to let him know she was tired of all this teasing. He met her gaze with a smile and retracted his hand from her mouth, saliva glistening in the flickering lights. 

"Behave now, before I find something else to fill that pretty little mouth of yours." His lopsided grin gave way to his daring glare. She figured it was his full intention to get her to "misbehave". She scoffed at him distatefully and looked away as if she had more pressing matters going on. 

Drifter rolled his shoulders to refresh them of any ache and brought his slicked fingers down to her glistening entrance. He slowly and carefully pressed them in, drawing a whine from the mighty guardian before him. His two fingers curled insider her, massaging the bundle of nerves against her pelvis. 

She gasped and jolted in his grasp, biting at her bottom lip to silence herself. Her legs wriggled subconsciously around him. He held her steady with his free hand and returned to his dutiful post eating up his awoken dessert while rocking his fingers into her ocean. 

Working her selflessly, not long later she was a panting mess in his arms, her entire body twitching at each movement of his fingers now buried to the hilt and his tongue sliding in to join occasionally when he wasn't sucking and sliding it around the center of her plush lips. 

Devorah's walls were closing in tighter and tighter around his fingers, he knew it wasn't long now. She had responded so beautifully to his work, he felt honored to have guided her this far, but... 

He slowed the pulse of his hand into her and pulled his mouth away from her center, licking his lips in content. The hunters sharp, icy irises locked onto his and he felt his cock jump in response. God...she had such power over him...but not enough, he snickered. 

His hand went from almost desperately plunging into her, to calculated movements; the difference between dancing at a club and a ballroom waltz. 

"Come on baby," his whole body was rocking into her, his 'little' man was getting desperate for some loving too. 

"Come for me, Dev." He looked up at her with begging, yet still scheming eyes, always retaining the sly glint that she so wanted to knock right off his face. 

He gasped in surprise, his eyes widening as her hand shot down to his throat, squeezing hard. Her nails pierced his skin. The Drifter shuddered beneath her, studying her face for any information he could gather.

Was this it? She used him just to kill him. She was the spider and he was the snake. 

"I said..." She panted hard, "Don't call me... that." 

The Drifter's eyes widened more before he broke into laughter, sending quakes through his body and into her core. Devorah's head fell back and she groaned, arching herself against his hand, trying to ride his fingers to the best of her ability, given her position being less than advantageous. 

"Or what, little wolf?" He dared, curling his fingers into her again.  
Devorah nearly dropped herself from the bar she was hanging on as her body reacted without her permission and she had to resort to biting her cheek to hold back a near scream. She hated this man with all her soul. 

Her grip against his neck tightened, causing the rouge's breath to catch, and she pushed him away from her, holding him by the throat as she tried arching her back into him again, desperately trying to get him to move the way she needed. 

The Drifter gave in to hopefully turn the tides before he lost consciousness due to this absolute fusion core of a woman in his palms. 

He slammed his fingers back into her and she cried out, digging her heels into his back. Her grip never left his throat, her arm locked in extension as if she didn't want to accept the truth of who was pleasing her, pushing him away, while pulling him back in all at once. Was she the sun or the ocean? Maybe she was the push and pull of dark matter against gravity...some paracausal entity born from opposites...she was Awoken after all. 

Devorah's body shook like thunder, her legs shuddered like an earthquake as they gripped onto his shoulders for dear life. His fingers dutifully plucked at her very existence, she felt like she was melting away before one...two... three more strokes of his large digits into her and her entire core collapsed down onto his hand. Her nails released the skin of his throat and blood pricked the surface that they left vacant. Devorah's palm slapped over her wet and panting lips as a scream threatened to breach her vocal chords 

The Drifter looked on in glorious success at his work, gasping the sweet flood of oxygen back into his lungs, his darkening vision returning to him with a sight only known by gods. 

The awoken woman's once blue skin, flushed purple and glistened like glimmer with beads of sweat. She released her arm from the bar and fell into the waiting arms of the man she despised. He shuffled her comfortably into his lap and settled to the floor, leaning against her, her back to the concrete wall beneath the guard rails. 

They both sat like that, eyes closed, breathing into eachother for quite some time until reality slowly but surely came spiraling back to them. 

Devorah pawed at the bare shoulders of the Drifters duster, thankful the usually present and very spiky shoulder pads weren't there today. Her eyes made their way down to the messy curls of the man laying on her chest, still panting just as hard as she was. She ran her fingers through his hair and he hummed in delight before she yanked his hair, pulling his face up to meet her own. 

Drifter chuckled tiredly and swatted her hand away. He pushed his scruffy face into the crook of her neck, sucking and nipping at the salty skin. She groaned and squirmed beneath him, jumping slightly when she felt something pushing into her from underneath. 

"Why don't we find somewhere a bit more... comfortable" Drifter whispered into her ear, scraping his teeth over her ear lobe. 

\----------  
The eavesdropping warlock breathed heavily into her hand, trying to keep quiet. She knew it was wrong, she knew she should've left long ago and that she was intruding, but... the opportunity to see her two idols in this manner was... exhilarating. She bit her fingers and squeezed her thighs together, trying to hold it together after watching this whole thing unfold. 

A titan trainee came bolstering down the hallway, probably for similar purposes as the warlock had come.  
The warlock jolted away from the doorway, dusting herself off and clearing her throat, hoping she didn't look obvious.  
She quickly hooked her arm into the titans and guided him back the way he came. "Sorry, there's a sign that says this section is under maintenance... we'll have to go around" She laughed nervously. The titan just shrugged and walked along.


End file.
